Page 18 of Burning Bridges

“Any chance you might have had in finishing what we started tonight. If you want to play with me, you follow my rules. My instructions. Or we don’t play,” he says smugly. And I hate the tone of his voice. He’s deadly serious, and I can’t afford for him to walk away and have all this be for nothing. I have crossed a line tonight, one I know I can’t come back from. It’s all or nothing now. And I want it all.

“I have Hannah this weekend,” I respond, not agreeing to anything just yet.

“Wednesday night then,” he huffs, and I like knowing he is obviously just as desperate as me to finish what we started.

“All right,” I concede, knowing it’s my only hope to get what I want.

“And Princess, I hope you’re ready for me. I have to warn you, I don’t play nice.”

I laugh, not able to help it. He has no idea who he is playing with—well, not really anyway. “You never have. But neither do I, Rivera,” I say right before disconnecting the call, not giving him the chance to respond with another smartass comment. I go to my window and close the blinds, blocking his view as well. If he wanted more from me tonight, he could have had it. It’s his choice to wait until Wednesday, so wait he will. Tonight might not have gone strictly according to my plan, but I’m now one step closer to getting what I want. So, I’m going to call that a win.

My body aches painfully from all the pent-up sexual frustration. I could finish myself off, release the orgasm I’m chasing; he would have no way of knowing if I did or not, but I won’t, because I know how much more satisfying the real thing is going to be.

I smile to myself as I slip under my covers, letting myself daydream about just how good Wednesday night is going to be.

Chapter 12

PIPER

"Mom,whydidyouand Dad get a divorce?" Hannah asks me, looking up from her bowl of Cheerios where she's sitting at the kitchen counter. I'm getting her lunch packed while she eats breakfast.

I knew this question would come one day, but I'm still not entirely prepared for it. "Sometimes mommies and daddies just decide it's better to be friends. I have known your father my whole life, and we were good friends before we ever decided to get married. So, I guess that's why." My answer feels lame, but I don't want to delve into the ins and outs of my family. No ten-year-old needs to hear about that.

"Yeah, Dad said something like that too." Hannah nods, and I'm glad we're on the same page about something. She takes another mouthful of cereal, still watching me. "Are you sad Jasmine will be my new stepmom?" She is scrutinizing my every move, waiting for my reaction, so I put on a smile.

"No, I'm happy. I think Jasmine will make a great stepmom. You're lucky to have her in your life." My words are true, but it still stings a little. "Hey, since we don't have a lot on today, why don't I take you down to the salon? You can get your hair cut while I check on the girls there. Your hair is getting quite long and could do with a trim," I suggest, trying to sound cheerful.

"Really? I'd like that. Do you think Erin could braid it the way I like?" She grins, remembering the last time I took her to work with me. My head stylist fixed her hair with two long braids hanging down her back, and she left them in for days, until I couldn't stand the bird's nest anymore and had to take them out.

"I'm sure she could." I place the little lunchbox full of snacks in front of her, pick up her bowl, and empty the rest of the cereal into the trash before putting the bowl in the dishwasher. I'm running on autopilot today, my brain foggy from lack of sleep and too many thoughts I shouldn't be having about Leo and what he has in store for me when I get to the club.

"You work too hard, Mom."

I smile back at my beautiful, empathetic child. "I know. Hopefully, one day I won't have to work this hard, but for now, I do. Luckily, I like my job, right?" I walk over to where she's sitting and play with her hair. "Maybe I could even get Priscilla to paint your nails while we're there," I add, hoping to sweeten the deal. I hate taking her to work with me, but I need at least an hour to catch up on some things there. My staff is wonderful with her, and Priscilla, our head nail technician and my best worker, keeps the other girls in check and dotes on Hannah whenever I bring her in.

“Really?” she squeals excitedly.

“I’m sure she could fit you in.” I hug her to me. “Go get yourself dressed so we can get going.” She runs off to her room, all excited, and I feel like I’m failing a little less at this whole parenting thing. At least she's happy, but so was I at her age, before I knew the reality of my world.

Half an hour later, Hannah slides into the black leather salon chair. Erin, in her late twenties, is the only one I would trust with Hannah’s hair. She props her up with a cushion so she’s tall enough to see herself in the mirror and chats to her about how she would like her hair. I signal to Erin to cut just an inch. I don’t want it too short, and if I let Hannah have whatever she wanted, who knows what we would end up with.

Because it’s a Sunday, we only have three girls, two cutting and styling hair and one doing nails. We’re not heavily booked for the day, like the rest of the week, but it’s still profitable enough to be open with the prices I charge. “Just a trim,” I tell Erin, making it extra clear; I know Hannah can be persuasive when she wants something. “I’m going to be in the back. Come and get me if you need me, okay, monkey?”

“Okay, Mom,” she says, smiling at Erin, who is already playing with her hair.

My salon is one of the top places to improve your look this side of LA. Our clients expect a certain sort of prestige when they walk through the door, and that is precisely what they get. They are made to feel like a million bucks when they're with us, and I make sure I charge them a pretty penny for the privilege. The space also needs to look the part. The floor is black marble, and the trimmings are all brass and gold, giving an opulent appearance. It’s modern and very me.

I make my way through my stylish salon to my office at the back, finding my space exactly how I left it on Friday. I love my little business. It feels like this and Hannah are the only two things I have done right in my life, and I’m grateful I was able to keep it when the Riveras took over everything else.

I take a seat at my desk, turning on my computer to check over my emails and client bookings for the next week. I need to make sure I have enough girls rostered to cover this week’s busy calendar. Surprisingly, even with my reputation, we are booked up most days. I run a tight ship around here, and the girls know it. When you have high standards, it shows in your work. Palm Springs has embraced my salon as the place to be if you want the trendiest look for the season. I like things to be organized and run on a schedule; it’s the only way I can manage all the things I’m doing.

I know a lot of mob families have businesses like this to help launder money or cover up other illegal operations they run, but this is not one of those businesses. This was my way of having something just for me away from my family. And I have had to fight tooth and nail to keep it. Tony tried to influence me over the years, but this is the one thing I stayed strong on. Even when I was desperate for the extra cash Gator was offering me to use this place to push his drugs, I didn’t budge. The thought makes me sick now. If I had known he would have gone straight to my vulnerable mother, I never would have agreed to meet with him in the first place.

Axel assured me he would pay for what he did to her, but the coward has now gone into hiding. Part of me wonders if I asked Leo to take care of it, if he would have better chances of bringing the slimy fucker to justice. But I can’t do that. For a start, I don’t want him knowing she took a substance he banned from this town while she was under my watch, and I also don’t want him thinking I need him. Well, not for anything other than sex, anyway.

There is a knock at my door, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I call.

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